


Lie To Me

by InNeedOfInspiration



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Captasha - Freeform, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Missing Scene, Pining, captain widow - Freeform, natasha/bruce mention, romanogers - Freeform, truth game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNeedOfInspiration/pseuds/InNeedOfInspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AoU fanfiction.<br/>Steve shuts himself away after his conversation with Bruce during the party. That is until an unexpected red-haired visitor joins him and suggests to play an innocent game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was almost midnight, the party was still full on, or maybe it wasn't, he was not sure. He had gone onto the balcony to get some air and think, and now he didn't really want to go back inside. Maybe the party was almost over, but the truth was he didn't really care anymore. He didn't feel like partying. Not since he had advised another guy to go after the woman he wanted.

He winced at his own choice of words. Bruce wasn't another guy, he was his teammate, he was his ally, he was, to some extent, a friend. No, Banner wasn't any guy; he was a bright scientist, a man with values and morals, he was more of a pacifist than a fighter if it weren't for his alter ego.

It was for all these reasons that he had stepped in this evening. Bruce was this righteous, nonbelligerent person, and Natasha had seen it. She had found plenty of reasons to fall for Bruce, and that made a big, valid reason for him to see them, too. He valued her opinion way too much to frown upon, or even question, her choice.

They hadn't talked about it, though. Natasha had turned out to be highly discreet and secretive when it came to her love life. Their discussions were always friendly, flowing naturally, but yet always futile. He hated it, he hated to watch her slowly, but inevitably, drift away from him. And those conversations, with time, became more and more rare. Every step further she took from him was a step closer she was taking towards Bruce. He could see it, he could see how he was slowly losing her.

But tonight, he had lost her for good. He had watched them interact from afar; like he had been doing for the past weeks. He had first ignored but noticed their random discussions become more and more frequent. Then he had noticed the shy smiles, the spontaneous glances, the chuckles. Her seductive smirk. Her _genuine_ seductive smirk. He had seen her care for him during the missions. He had witnessed the random lullaby progressively drift into a moment of intimacy. And one day, one day, her smirk became a tender smile, and this was when he knew. This was when he know he had lost her. When he had seen her step out of her Black Widow persona and just be Nat.

The others did not have a clue, though. And how could they? We were talking about Black Widow falling in love, here. She was doing it like she was chasing a prey: in silence and in the dark. It had even escaped Clint's sharp eye; Clint, the Hawkeye; Clint, her best friend. Steve kept the secret; not that he really wanted to, but because he had hoped Natasha saw at least a friend in him and would eventually confide in. She never did. She would pat his shoulder, sometimes bring up Sharon in the conversation, then she would leave just as quickly as she had come. Their friendship from the time they were chasing Hydra seemed like an elusive memory. Or perhaps an entire delusion.

He hadn't planned on saying about it, tonight, but as he watched them talking across the bar, Natasha openly flirting and Bruce looking like he didn't have a clue, he gave up on the idea of her ever getting her back. Natasha had chosen a man, and this man wasn't him. He had secretly hoped to be her choice, just like he had hoped Peggy would want him. But here was his problem when it came to love, Steve did nothing more but hope. He had lost time with Peggy, he had missed his chance with Natasha. And now, he was full of regrets. And because he was -and had promised to stay, a good man; because he had sworn to remain that kid from Brooklyn, and because he wanted Nat to be happy, he decided he wouldn't let Bruce miss his chance either. After all, if she had chosen him, he certainly deserved her.

He waited for her to walk away then he went up to Banner. He propped his elbow on the bar and took a deep breath in. He always used to take deep breaths in before getting a punch in the 1940s.

"That's nice," he said as casually as he possibly could.

And at that moment, it sucked to be a good man.

 

Right after their talk, Steve had headed to the balcony to take some time alone and definitely say goodbye to Natasha. He smiled to himself, leaning on the railing, while holding his beer. He felt foolish to have even believed he had a chance with her. Natasha was intelligent, sarcastic, funny, gorgeous, strong and fragile, independant. She was out of reach, quite simply. Out of his reach.

"Steve," he could recognize her voice anywhere.

He slowly turned his head and looked at Natasha as she walked up to him in her usual alluring and confident way.

"What are you doing here on your own?" she asked with a smirk, "Stark would hate to know you're not enjoying the hell out of his party."

"Oh but I am," he said dully, without looking at her, and drinking up the last sip of beer.

She didn't say a word, then leaned onto the railings, right beside him. He could almost feel her naked arm brushing against the fabric of his shirt. He blamed himself immediately for having such a lustful thought for a woman who was taken. Taken by his friend.

She observed him from the corner of her eye as he silently stared into the horizon.

"Let's play a game," she said as she flipped around, before leaning her back against the railings and looking at him. She seemed amused.

He sighed. Another futile conversation.

"I'm not in a mood for a game," he commented flatly.

"Which is exactly why we should do it," she concluded with a smirk. His eyes surrendered and flicked her way. He didn't want to play, but he just couldn't say no. Especially now that he knew it was probably one of the last few conversations they would ever have. "I was about to propose a truth game but we both know you'd win hands down because you can't lie." He rolled his eyes and let out a dull snort. "Three questions each. I say the truth. You answer with a lie. Sound convincing."

He agreed with a shrug.

"Did you really have practice at kissing since 1945?", she could not have hidden her playful smirk even if she had wanted.

"Seriously?" he protested.

"Come on, Rogers. It's the game."

He eyed her with furrowed brows, then he nodded slightly.

"I had plenty of practise," he sighed. Natasha smirked. It was the answer she was expecting.

"I knew it!" she confirmed out loud.

"Can we, at least, avoid the comments?" he grumbled. She mimed zipping her mouth and throwing the key over the railing. She then leaned over the edge and pretended to follow its fall with deep amazement. It made him smile.

"Fine. Since you keep bugging me with it, then let me ask again. Was it that bad?" the corner of his mouth rose a little.

She looked straight at him, defying him with her eyes, to doubt her answer.

"It was quite pleasant. But certainly too short to give you a solid answer," she chuckled then turned around to face the view again. He snorted bitterly.

"Did you call the nurse like I told you to?" she asked less lightly, but looking calm and hopeful.

Her question stung him. Why did she always have to bring everything back to his dating life? Did she suspect him to have a look on her and was it her attempt at ending it?

"I did," he answered, "we had a date and it went very well. I plan on asking her out again, soon."

Natasha had a look he certainly did not expect. She seemed disappointed, almost hurt, as if he had just given her the wrong answer. She nodded, nonetheless, then looked away for a short moment.

"Where did you go when you said you had to get yourself a new cover?" he asked.

"Singapore," she said, "I knew someone there who could help me go unnoticed for a few months. I only stayed a couple of weeks then I went to Europe."

He wanted to ask if she had been doing alright during her exile but it would have made uncomfortable. Natasha never spoke of her feelings.

"Last question," he said, kind of relieved.

"Alright," she started casually, then taking a brief pause to think of a question, "Why did you tell Bruce to go for it?"

Her question -which was everything but unplanned, startled him.

"H-How?" he asked.

"Rogers, I was trained to keep an eye and an ear everywhere," she answered dryly, annoyed to be underestimated, it seemed.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to sound intrusive. I was just trying to-"

"Just answer the question, Rogers," she cut in. She finally looked up at him and he saw hurt in her eyes. He could not really tell why, though.

"I told Bruce because you both deserve to be unhappy. I thought if I could slow things down between you two, it would be for the worst."

He sighed internally. That had to be the silliest game Natasha had ever come up with.

She bit her bottom lip, processing a piece of information he had clearly failed to grasp, somehow.

"Of course," she murmured, "you're Captain America, you always do what's best."

She gulped down the rest of her champagne, nearly half of the glass.

"Well, that was enlightening," she said to herself then, without a look, started towards the doors.

"Nat," he called, clasping the railing in frustration as he watched her walk away. He was having a bad combination of bitterness, sorrow and now confusion.

"Why did you leave?" he then blurted out. She froze in motion. "I could have been there for you. You know I would have stood by your side, no matter what. You know I would have fought them all to defend your name. Why did you run away?"

"I ran away from you!" she cried out as she flipped around to face him. She held up a limp arm in his direction. "I mean look at you, look at me. I'm damaged. In every possible way a person can be. I didn't stand a chance. So I had to think of the best way to not have my heart broken."

Her voice was weak, filled with sorrow, fighting to get enough strength to voice out those words.

"Yes, I ran away, but only to escape a broken heart. That's one more damage I would rather prevent."

"And Bruce?" he breathed out, dreading the answer he would get.

She closed her eyes like her lids haf gotten too heavy to keep up. "That makes four questions," she whispered with a sad smile. He looked at her pleadingly. "Bruce is a wonderful, damaged person. We understand each other in a deep, miserable way; and I know I can help fix him."

She allowed herself to let one single tear fall down. Only one tear of weakness to mourn her tragic condition, to grieve for an enviable future she could never get. And then she crushed it. She wiped her tear away before it reached her cheek, and she became strong Natasha, again.

"Nat," he called out, painfully, still processing this whole new perspective of their complicated story, physically in pain to assess how low she thought of herself.

He ran up after her and gently held her elbow, forcing her to face him.

"Ask me how I feel about you," he pressed her to demand, "Nat, ask me what I feel for you."

She smirked sadly, expecting an answer she knew she wouldn't like. An answer that would never enough.

"Fine," she whispered, "What do you feel for me?"

He took a deep breath in. The second time that night.

"I feel absolutely nothing for you and this is why seeing you grow closer to Banner physically soothed me. This is also for the same exact reason why I called my neighbor and why I called every other woman you ever suggested I should take out on a date. Because you're not the one haunting my thoughts. Because the prospect of seeing you makes my bright day go darker. Because you make me ache for my past life even harder. Because you make every thing more gloomy and painful. Because this life here _sucks_ knowing you're in it." She chuckled lightly, half-amused, haf-sad. He didn't know for sure. Natasha was pretty hard to read and to understand and that was how she had unwillingly compelled him. He gently cupped her cheek and stroked her delicate skin with his thumb, "Natasha, you have to be the most...boring, predictable woman I was ever unfortunate to cross path with. And I need you to believe me when I say that I could never fall in love with you."

His eyes screamed the contrary and he soon overwhelmed her by this excess of singular frankness. She rose on her toes and gently captured his lips. The kiss was first soft and shy, then it became eager, giving away the secret longing they had to touch again since that day on the escalator. His kiss apologized profusely for letting her think she was not worthy and promised to worship her till his last breath; her kiss took passionately what she had forbidden herself to claim.

When they eventually pulled away for air, their bodies radiating heat despite the cool wind of the night, she plunged her look into his piercing blue eyes and smiled.

"This has to be the most romantic thing any man has ever said to me," she whispered against his lips then leaned in to taste his insatiable love some more.

  


  


  


  


 

 


	2. Question

I was just thinking. Would you like to read more about what happens after the scene written in chapter 1?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised

As promised, I've written the sequel. It's called _'Finding the Truth'_. You can find it on my page or by searching for the title. Hope you like it :)


End file.
